Hope you all liked chapter one. Drop some reviews, if you don't mind. No flaming, please.
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"Did I ask to hear you excuses? A clue: no!" The Sheriff snapped, causing Morgan to cringe. She'd worked through the night, but she hadn't managed to fill the Sheriff's order. On top of that, she had taken a new route, circumnavigating the forest to avoid Robin Hood, so she had arrived late that morning. She desperately wanted to tell the Sheriff that she had been robbed, and that it wasn't her fault that he hadn't provided her with guards. Moreover, she wanted to tell him to take one of the swords that she had managed to make and tell him where to forcibly place it. That, however, would spell a certain kind of doom that Morgan was not ready to undertake. She looked straight ahead as the Sheriff yelled at her, knowing full well that he could care less about the swords. He just liked yelling at people.
"My lord, She was robbed by Robin Hood." Morgan suppressed a thankful smile, turning to see Guy of Gisborne walking into the room. "Just yesterday." The Sheriff stopped, tilting his head to the side, whipping around to face Morgan.
"Hood? Just yesterday?" He didn't sound sympathetic, but the glint to his eye told everyone in the room that he was planning something. He left without another word, leaving Morgan in the room with her savior. She managed something of a curtsy.
"Thank you, Sir Guy. I would've told him meself, only I didn't want him to think that Hood was too much for me to handle. I have to keep this job, for me mum, sir." She explained hastily. Guy was friends with her older brother and had gotten Morgan the job in the first place. Morgan disliked the Sheriff, and she couldn't bring herself to agree with most of the things that she'd heard about Guy, but he had never done anything to her personally. He put a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head.
"Don't thank me. Thank my new right-hand man," he stepped to the side, revealing Allan, dressed in the black and grey uniform that signified his new allegiance. The former outlaw was fumbling with the hem of his vest, smirking at Morgan.
"Thank you," Morgan smiled. "So sorry, Sir Guy, but I've got to get to work. I need to finish with the sheriff's order." Guy kept his hand on her shoulder.
"Morgan, I need you to take Allan and get him a sword," he instructed. Morgan nodded.
"Right away, Sir Guy." She took Allan by the hand, leading him to her workshop.
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"You look really smart, Allan," she commented, opening the door to her workshop. She walked across the room, opening a large cabinet. It was lined with weapons of all sorts. She gazed thoughtfully at them, trying to ignore Allan's smug grin.
"You better be careful with those compliments, Morgan. People will talk," he grinned, leaning against the wall. She rolled her eyes, selecting a sword from the cabinet and holding it out to him.
"That should do the trick." Allan tied the sword around his waist, looking at Morgan.
"Am I doing the right thing?" he asked suddenly, his hands dropping to his sides. Morgan closed the cabinet, leaning against it as she mulled the question over.
"If it weren't the right thing, I wouldn't tell you to do it," she shrugged, remembering days gone by. Allan took note of the smile that ghosted across her lips, his own grin broadening.
"You're thinking of Tom's head stuck in that barrel," he chuckled, remembering the occasion. Morgan had used the exact same words to coax Allan's little brother into putting his head into an empty barrel. They couldn't have been more than eight or nine. Morgan held up her hands.
"Guilty," she admitted, "Now, you best be getting back to work. Go on, rabbit off." She ushered him towards the door, waving as he rounded the corner. She turned back to her workshop, the smile ebbing away as she thought of all of the work she had to do.
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Gisborne stepped into the council room, standing before the Sheriff. The older man was leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table in front of him, his fingers steepled in front of him, making him look like the grand schemer he was.
"Gisborne, why didn't you tell me that our lovely, little blacksmith travels through the woods to get here, and why haven't we taken advantage of it?" The question caught Gisborne off guard, causing him to furrow his brow.
"My lord, I don't follow," he muttered. The Sheriff stood, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward.
"Gisborne, if you haven't noticed, our lovely, little blacksmith could do all of her work in the castle, but she doesn't. She goes home. To whom does she go home?" The Sheriff asked calmly.
"Her mother, my lord. She has an ill mother at home," Gisborne answered.
"Very good. Now, does our lovely, little blacksmith have a husband?"
"She is unmarried," Gisborne replied slowly, not liking where the Sheriff was going with this line of questioning.
"Good. Propose." Gisborne looked at the Sheriff as if the man had just sprouted an extra head.
"Sir?"
"Propose. You know, Gisborne. That thing that you tried with Marian. Now, off you go." The Sheriff waved a hand, dismissing a dumbstruck Gisborne from the room. Gisborne, however, remained rooted to the spot.
"My lord, why?" The Sheriff rubbed his temples. What was it with henchmen and questions? Why couldn't they mindlessly follow orders, like in the good ol' days?
"Close the door and make sure no one finds out."
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Allan opened the door to the workshop without knocking, grinning as he spotted the large pile of finished swords. Morgan was hammering out a piece of armor, completely absorbed in her work. She didn't seem to notice Allan's entrance, a fact that he used to sneak up behind her and quickly clap a hand onto her shoulder. She jumped, dropping the piece of armor and the mallet she had been holding, letting out a yelp of surprise.
"Allan, that was not funny!" she hissed, leaning over to pick up her tools. He chuckled.
"I thought it was hilarious. Anyway, Morgan, Gisborne wants to see you," he informed, crossing his arms over his chest. She set her things down on the table, her hands moving to her hips.
"Why?" she asked. Allan shrugged.
"Dunno. He only asked me to come and get you. C'mon. He's waiting in the courtyard." Morgan followed Allan, adjusting her clothes, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. There was a small crowd in the yard, all muttering amongst themselves, some of them glancing at Morgan with piqued interest. She grabbed onto Allan's hand, suddenly very nervous. He looked back, smirking in the arrogant, obnoxious way that Morgan couldn't help but smile at. Guy of Gisborne stood in the center of the yard.
"Morgan, I've something important to ask you," he began, sounding out of sorts.
"Yes, Sir Guy?" Morgan replied, concerned by the man's uncharacteristic behavior.
"Morgan. You're brother is off in the Holy Lands. You're mother is ill. You know me to be generous and of good background," he paused, clearing his throat. "Will you… will you marry me?" Morgan's grip tightened on Allan's hand, her eyes widening. Guy could clearly see that the direct approach wasn't working, so he tried a different attack.
"I can provide for you. Your mother will receive the best treatments, and I will make room for you both at Locksley. When your brother returns from the Holy Lands, I shall see to it that he is also taken care of. Morgan, I want to help you. Please, accept my proposal." Morgan looked between Guy, the crowd of nobles, and Allan, who looked nearly as dumbfounded as she did.
"Me, Sir Guy? A noble like you wants to marry someone like meself?" Gisborne has always been kind to her, but she'd never suspected… After all, everyone knew that he loved Marian… and… The crowd of nobles began to mutter amongst themselves. Guy ran his hands through his hair.
"Morgan. Your answer, please," he prompted. Morgan didn't quite know what to do. Allan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She nodded.
"Aye. I'll marry you," she swallowed, her answer a bit weak. The nobles gave a gentle applause as Gisborne took Morgan's free hand. Her head was spinning. She looked back to Allan, barely registering as a court crier made the announcement.
"Presenting Guy of Gisborne and his wife-to-be, Morgan." Suddenly, the full weight of what she'd just done fell down on her like a ton of bricks.
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Marian was quick to make it to the forest, the guards preoccupied with Gisborne's recent announcement. She slowed her horse to a stop, ready to deliver the latest news from the castle. Robin and company peeked out from the trees, meeting her on the path.
"Gisborne's engaged," she called, dismounting her horse. Looks of surprise flew from outlaw to outlaw. Marian continued, "The castle's blacksmith. They're holding a feast for her, and then she's going to fetch her mother."
"The blacksmith? Young lady, dark-haired, green eyed?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. Marian nodded.
"Yes, her name is Morgan. Gisborne's always kept an eye out for her," Marian noted. Robin nodded.
"So, she is a person of value," he mused, "and she has to go get her mother."
"She'll have to come through the woods to get to her," Will stated plainly, cottoning on to Robin's plan. John smiled, leaning on his quarterstaff.
"This plan, we like."
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Morgan paced back and forth, feeling jittery. Allan leaned in the doorway, rubbing at his beard, choosing not to show his panic. Morgan was panicking enough for both of them.
"Allan, what did I just do? I mean, he's always watched out for me, but I don't think I can marry him, Allan!" She stopped, running her hands through her hair. "I can't! I'm not in… I love…" Her frantic words died off as she threw her hands into the air, trying to show her frustration. Allan took her firmly by the shoulders.
"Morgan, calm down. There's something to this. I'll find out," he promised evenly. "Now, head home and get your mum. It's getting late." Morgan nodded, taking a deep breath, heading out the door.
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Robin and gang waited, watching for Morgan. She came about soon enough, looking distracted and off-kilter, her old horse stumbling along the path. She did her best to make sure that the horse didn't trip up.
"Easy now, Tinder. Day's been hectic enough without you causing a fuss." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Politely put, she was freaking out, questions and answers clashing in her head. Why did he propose? Why had she agreed to it? The question that tugged at her the most, though, was one that she felt ridiculous for asking herself. Why didn't he stop me?
She thought of Allan's bright, blue eyes, how they'd looked so reassuring when he'd squeezed her hand, encouraging her. All of the questions were easily answered. Gisborne had been trying to help, Morgan had been thinking of her mother, and Allan had been protecting her, knowing the consequences of flouting such a proposal in public. Be that as it may, they still spiraled through her thoughts, over and over.
As it had been before, she heard him before she saw him, his voice echoing through the trees, stirring her from her jumbled thoughts.
"Greetings, Lady Gisborne. If you'll kindly stay still, this will be a lot easier." Morgan threw up her hands, reflecting on the way the gesture had changed. The other morning, it had meant compliance. Now, it meant total defeat. She was just too messed up to argue. The way that he'd called her "Lady Gisborne" made her highly uncomfortable, in fact causing her to cringe. It was all too alien to her.
"Terribly sorry in advance, m'lady," came Robin's sarcastic voice, just as something connected with the back of her head. Her vision blurred in front of her, but the reason behind Gisborne's proposal had become painfully clear.
Bait, she thought before she passed out, feeling deeply betrayed.
